


Shares

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29847867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A conversation on heats and their ‘relationship’.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 21
Kudos: 77





	Shares

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Stole part of this idea from DestinyIslandWanderer~
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Usually, Ignis is the one to go shopping, or at least the one to take care of the main things they need while the others flitter off to whatever stands catch their eye. Gladiolus is the first to grumble that they need more food, thus more ingredients, and he heads to the door, Prompto quickly scrambling after in the hopes of finding new guns. Ignis automatically rises, strolling across their temporary bedroom, but Noctis finally sees his chance and grabs Ignis’ wrist. Ignis stops in his tracks. Gladiolus waits halfway into the hall, calling, “You guys coming?”

Noctis opens his mouth, trying to find the right words, wanting to communicate that _Ignis should stay_ without letting on why. Ignis searches his eyes and, as always, comes to Noctis’ rescue. “Actually, I’d meant to discuss something with Noct. We’ll join you later.”

Prompto pauses, glancing back, frowning. He and Noctis almost always hit the Lestallum streets together. But Noctis flashes a forced smile, wordlessly urging him on, and Prompto slowly agrees, “Okay... see you, I guess.” 

Gladiolus either doesn’t pick up on the tension or doesn’t care—he goes, and Prompto follows. Ignis continues after them to close the door, then turn back, right when Noctis is plopping down onto the bed. He perches on the edge of it, heavy and awkward, fingers gripping the striped blankets a little too hard. It’s been a while since they had the chance to sleep in a proper bed, even longer since they could afford a nice hotel instead of a cheap caravan. The softness of the sheets isn’t much comfort. Ignis reads the room right—he comes back to Noctis, just like always, and takes a seat on the bed across from him, their legs dangling in between and their shoes not far from touching. Noctis doesn’t know where to start. He wonders if Ignis can sense his distress. Probably. Even if he weren’t an omega too far from his nest, Ignis can always read him. But Ignis is kind and patient—he waits for Noctis to start. 

Noctis can’t start with the current issue. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he manages, “I... want to ask you something. But... it’s really messed up, and... I think I need to clear up something else first.” He sucks in a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Ignis’ eyes, piercing even through the thin glasses that frame his elegant face. “Hell, I should’ve done this years ago. I know that. But I guess I was too afraid of the answer.”

Ignis is frowning. But at least he doesn’t radiate the nervous trouble Noctis is having. He’s a suave alpha through and through. He stays silent, and Noctis finally makes himself pose that one question he’s toyed with for his whole adult life: “When you... ‘help me out’... with my heats... are you just fulfilling a duty, or do you actually enjoy it?”

Ignis’ frown only deepens. Noctis winces. He should’ve known. It’s not like Ignis is ever stiff or struggling when it happens—he’s always wonderful, _too_ wonderful, but it’s only during those moments where Noctis’ brain is so fuzzy that he can barely remember anything afterwards. He usually wakes up alone, in a nest reeking of his advisor, to the sounds of Ignis puttering about the kitchen, faithfully making him breakfast. And then Noctis will feel sated but guilty and not know how to broach the subject of whatever happened, and Ignis won’t either—he’ll feed Noctis piece by piece and brush Noctis’ hair, help him into the shower and dote on him until he’s better, and then Ignis will go home, and Noctis is left with the faint trace of Ignis’ cologne on his skin and nothing else. Ignis never marks him. Ignis never pursues him. And Noctis doesn’t either, because he doesn’t know what’s going on outside that one little pocket of life they’ve agreed to. 

He can never remember if he made _Ignis_ come or not, if Ignis moaned his name, if Ignis looked adoringly down at him or distant. He only knows that he clung to Ignis for dear life and never wanted to let go. 

He was really hoping Ignis would admit to doing the same, except when he does finally give an answer, it’s only: “It’s complicated.”

Noctis has never been so crestfallen. He can feel a rock dropping right into the pit of his stomach. His whole body wilts. Normally, seeing that, Ignis would run to him and hold him, pet him and send a soothing wave of pheromones to fix it, but that would be just another rescue. Any of the Crownsguard sworn to serve him would probably do the same. Even Gladiolus would, though he’d also tease Noctis mercilessly afterwards. 

But Ignis takes care in explaining, “Please, don’t misunderstand me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re forcing me to do anything.”

“But if you don’t like it, then I am—”

“Noct, please.” He holds up a hand, and Noctis falls silent, not because he’s an obedient omega faced with an alpha’s command but because he respects Ignis enough to shut up when told. “Remember how young we both were when we were introduced. Our designations hadn’t surfaced then, and you were only my prince. I always knew that, though you never treated me badly. ...Aside from the occasional bought of bratty attitude of course, but I mean you never made me feel inferior.” Noctis’ nose wrinkles. He was a total brat and Ignis knows it. He’s honestly tried to be better. “What you have to understand is that caring for you is so deeply ingrained in me that it’s difficult to separate. You can’t simply ask me to choose duty or friendship, because both forms of our relationship have become a fundamental part of who I am.”

Noctis... sort of understands. And doesn’t like it at all. It sounds terrible when Ignis says it like that; like he was _raised_ to love Noctis. Maybe Noctis was raised to love him too, but that doesn’t matter. They’re more than that. Or at least, Noctis wants them to be. He regrets even asking the question.

He looks down at the floor, because it becomes difficult to look at his handsome advisor, so beautiful and all-knowing and installed in every facet of Noctis’ life. He can’t help muttering, “Do you ever resent that?”

“No.” At least Ignis doesn’t hesitate there.

Noctis still doesn’t believe it. He bitterly admits, “Sometimes I picture you lying awake at night, hating me.”

“Noct...” He looks up again, and Ignis finally looks as troubled as he is. “That _never_ happens.”

Maybe not. Or maybe Ignis is just trying to protect him again. It’s not the way he wanted the conversation to go. He can’t bring himself to push it any farther.

Unfortunately, Ignis’ memory is as impeccable as everything else about him. “What was the ‘messed up’ thing you wanted to ask me?”

Noctis winces again. He shouldn’t have said anything. He looks over at the window, needing a distraction, and remembers his best friend and shield wandering the streets below, laughing and enjoying the bright sunny day. It’s stormy inside. They’re probably both fine out there. If they’re not, if Gladiolus suddenly starts to feel a little _too_ alpha-esque, hungry and horny and ready to claim whatever crosses his path—

Well, Gladiolus is gorgeous. He can easily pick someone up to fuck against the nearest building. But if Prompto starts to feel the telltale tingling of heat, and Noctis isn’t even there to coo at him and cuddle him and kiss his pretty freckles...

Noctis closes his eyes and forces out, “I’m... worried about Prompto.”

Of course Ignis is quiet. He’s making this all so much harder by not just immediately shutting Noctis down. “And... fuck, Iggy, I care about him so much. I can’t stand the thought of him getting stuck with some random alpha out here who might not treat him right. Hell, _all_ alphas kinda scare me. I mean, I know we have Gladio, but he’s off doing his own thing, and it wouldn’t feel right to force that on him, and it’s totally not right to force it on you either, but... but I just want Prompto to be treated right. And you’re so good at that. You always make me feel so safe. And I want him to have the best. So... I...”

“You’re asking me if I would sleep with Prompto during his heat,” Ignis concludes: the blunt reality. Noctis nods, full of shame, knowing acutely how wrong it is. Ignis doesn’t look any more upset by that than the first conversation, but he’s always had a good poker face. “Shouldn’t that be Prompto’s decision?”

Noctis swallows. “He’s attracted to you, Iggy. I know he is. _Everybody_ is.” Maybe he shouldn’t say that part. But it’s true. Ignis is every kind of beauty, possessing every kind of talent, alluring in all ways. Noctis can’t even remember a time when he _wasn’t_ attracted to Ignis in one way or another. But he knows Prompto has it bad for a fact, even if Prompto has only ever admitted it in the dead of night, in the heady afterglow, spent and dizzy and so snuggly in Noctis’ arms. Ignis seems to weigh this knowledge out, and Noctis waits to hear what he thinks of it—what _he_ wants, outside of whether or not other people want him.

But Ignis only asks, “And how would you feel about that?”

It’s not about him. Noctis still answers, “Honestly, if it were anyone else... I wouldn’t like it.” He knows that’s not fair. Ignis should be able to have whoever he wants. It’s not like they’re really bonded. “But Prompto...” _He loves Prompto._ He can’t bring himself to say that to Ignis. 

“Then I’ll help him, but you have to understand that you will always be my first priority. If the two of you should trigger each other’s heats on this journey, as you might well do, I’ll take care of you first regardless of who’s in more pain.”

“That’s... that’s not fair...”

“I do care about Prompto too. But _you’re_ my prince.”

That’s not fair too, but it’s not even what he meant. “You should be the first priority.”

Ignis falls silent. Noctis does too. He feels horrible for never saying that before. Ignis _always_ puts Noctis above his own needs, and Noctis is too selfish to even repay it. For years, he’s had his cake and eaten it too. He’s had the alpha of his dreams and whatever else he wanted on the side. 

Prompto’s designation was late in coming, and for a while Noctis hoped he’d be an alpha, that they could just be together—no matter what his father or the council thought—and Ignis would be free. But then Prompto became an omega , just like Noctis, still such a good fit for Noctis, and they had even more fun _being together_ with their competing scents and soft touches, but they were impotent to do anything for each other when heats came.

Noctis has no idea what Prompto did all those times Noctis slunk off to Ignis. Maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe everyone in his life has or wants other people and he’s just forcing them back into his orbit whenever he needs them. 

Ignis lifts his hand, and his delicate fingers pluck his glasses from his face. His other hand rubs the bridge of his nose, eyes pinched together—the stress of the discussion finally weighing on him too. Noctis also feels guilty for that. When Ignis pushes his glasses back into place, he says, “Noct, I always knew I was only a placeholder. Eventually, you would be wed to an alpha—if not Lunafreya then someone else, and they would do everything for you that I had. And more. And I would continue to stand by your side but remain _alone_ for the rest of my days, because I could never love anyone else as much as I love you.”

Noctis is... speechless. His stomach’s churning. Ignis adds, “That being said, I have grown very fond of Prompto. Gladio and I have actually discussed the possibility of his heat on the road, and either of us would help him if need be, but without a conversation beforehand, it would obviously be unethical. We should have had that conversation the day after Insomnia fell, when we knew this wouldn’t be a short trip, but it was an awkward discussion to breach and we neglected that duty.”

At least Noctis wasn’t the only one. It’s good to know they all care about Prompto. Which reminds him: “And Gladio? What if he goes into rut?”

“It isn’t the same thing. Ruts can’t prove fatal if unattended, and while they’re unruly, they’re nowhere near as painful, nor do they require an omega to soothe them.” Noctis knows that all too well—he has offered to help Ignis in the past, here and there, when he’d see the fierce lust boiling up in Ignis’ eyes and knew what was coming. It seemed only fair to return the favour, but Ignis would invariably excuse himself and leave, never wanting to ‘burden’ Noctis, even though Noctis would fly into fits of his own afterwards out of sheer frustration. 

Visibly hesitating, Ignis adds, “And as we are being open with these difficult subjects... I will admit that Gladio has asked me to help him through those as well.”

Noctis’ mouth falls open. It shouldn’t be a surprise. _Of course_ everyone wants Ignis. And he actually doesn’t know how he feels about that. “Did... did you...?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Noctis’ fingers are digging deep into the sheets. “You don’t want to, or...?”

“That isn’t it.”

“Then why...?”

Looking straight into Noctis’ eyes, Ignis answers, “I have always considered myself yours.”

Noctis feels _horrible_. The guilt reaches its crescendo, washing through him in cloying, hot waves. “But I... with Prompto...” He’s messed around so much. He’s even cupped Prompto’s cheek, stared right into him, and promised _I love you._ And he meant it. Still means it. He loves Prompto _so much_. But he loves Ignis too and feels just as intrinsically linked to Ignis as Ignis does to him. He knows he’s taken that for granted. And now he knows he’s taken advantage. 

Ignis gently replies, “That’s alright. You were never mine.”

“I _hate_ that!” He hates that so much. It’s not fair. Not right. Not even true. “And we don’t even _have_ a damn capitol anymore, duty shouldn’t matter—”

Ignis cuts him off with a simple: “No matter the circumstance, you will always be my prince.” 

It’s a wonder that Noctis isn’t crying. Maybe he’s too mad. He’s furious with himself. He’s definitely breathing too hard. If he was an alpha, the sheer intensity of his emotions would have omegas on the other side of the hotel cowering in fear. But Ignis withstands his storm, always there to suffer Noctis’ blows. And Noctis doesn’t know how to stop them from coming. 

After a long minute, he grits out, “You can be with Gladio.” He should’ve already done that if he wanted. Ignis nods matter-of-factly. “And Prompto, if you want...”

“I will.”

“ _Fuck_ , Iggy. You help everyone, while we’re all just out doing whatever we want!” 

“Noct...”

“No, it’s not right! I’ve been fooling around with Prompto for years _and_ sleeping with you whenever my heat comes, and you’ve just been... what, saving yourself for me? Going through ruts alone? Turning down people you want because you think you owe me?”

“I’ve been sleeping with a man I love and befriended two others I adore. You speak as though this has been a hardship. I assure you, it hasn’t.”

It’s hard to believe that’s true. Ignis looks as dead serious as he always does, save when he’s making a cute pun or lost in an incredibly competitive game. He’s all things to Noctis. He’s _perfect_.

Noctis is a pathetic, difficult omega who really needs an alpha to straighten him out. He shouldn’t, but he pushes off the bed, crosses the space between them, and drops down in Ignis’ lap like a hurt kitten. He feels Ignis stiffen, then relax, hands coming to secure his waist, and Noctis wraps his arms around Ignis’ shoulders, tucking his face next to Ignis’. Ignis has the most calming scent. And he strokes Noctis’ back just right. He settles Noctis down, even though Noctis isn’t the one who should be comforted. 

He murmurs next to Noctis ear, “If you must know, Your Highness... I actually consider myself quite privileged.”

Noctis turns to kiss Ignis’ cheek, warm and firm. “You won’t be alone.” He means it. _Never_. “I’m yours too, okay? And Prompto’s, but... but you can also have him, and we can both be yours... and Gladio too... the four of us, we’re together. You’re part of it.”

“I know.”

Noctis squeezes him extra hard. Maybe too hard. It’s hard to let go. But when Noctis finally sits back enough to see Ignis’ face, there’s a soft smile that melts his heart. He leans his forehead against Ignis’. He hopes Ignis already knows, but he says just in case: “I love you.”

Ignis’ smile grows. He doesn’t have to say it back, because Noctis already knows.

They sit like that together until the other two return, and the group hug crushes out Noctis’ unshed tears.


End file.
